The Adjustment Bureau
by BluEyes
Summary: Chance was on their side. Unfortunately, fate was not. Based on the premise of the movie with the same title. Mondler
1. Chapter One

**The Adjustment Bureau**

**Chapter One**

~.~

_I realize I need another story going like I need (insert cliché here), but I saw the movie _The Adjustment Bureau_ (with Matt Damon and Emily Blunt) the other night, and I got the urge to base a Mondler fic on the premise of the movie. I've never done anything like this before, so…bear with me. This won't be very long, about 5-ish chapters, and it's based on the premise of the movie (which I'm not going to say, but if you haven't seen it, you will understand as the story goes on). It will, of course, tie into events from the actual show. And…I think that's what you need to know._

_Disclaimer? Sure, why not. I don't own the _Friends_ characters. Or the premise of _The Adjustment Bureau_. If one were to sue me, they would get absolutely nothing since I'm a poor grad student._

~.~

**Thanksgiving 1988**

~.~

Nora Bing paused as she got into her car, having a feeling she was forgetting something. Digging through her purse, she frowned, unsure as to how she could be missing her wallet. Sighing, as she was running late, she got out of the car, going back inside after it.

~.~

Monica, clad in pajama pants and a tshirt, stopped outside of the guest bedroom on her way downstairs to get a glass of water, the door slightly ajar, light still shining from underneath. She felt bad, terrible, for cutting off Chandler's toe. She just wanted to make him feel bad, not maim him. He probably didn't even remember what he said the year before. He was a teenage guy; teenage guys say stupid things all the time.

Monica sighed, lifting her hand to knock, but then letting it fall. She felt like she needed to apologize, but wasn't sure what to say or how it would be received.

As the door suddenly opened, Monica jumped backwards, Chandler on the other side jumping, as well.

"God, you scared the shit out of me," Chandler laughed.

"Sorry," Monica replied quietly, not moving from the doorway or offering any other explanation.

"I-um-did you need something?" Chandler finally asked, Monica not moving making him unable to leave.

Monica shook her head. "I just…I wanted to apologize. For, ya know, the whole cutting off your toe thing." Chandler laughed out loud at that. "Okay, I know it was a horrible thing to do, but you don't have to laugh at my apology!" Monica turned to go, but Chandler reached out for her shoulder.

"No, sorry, that's not why I was laughing," he limped forward, Monica turning back towards him. "It just sounded really, really ridiculous. "'I'm sorry for cutting off your toe.' How ridiculous does that sound? Who does that happen to?" he laughed again, Monica smiling slightly.

"I am sorry," Monica again said quietly.

Chandler shrugged. "It happens."

Monica laughed at that. "No. No, it doesn't."

Chandler grinned at finally making her smile. "You're probably right."

"How-how's your toe?" Monica finally asked, Chandler leaning against the doorframe.

Chandler nodded. "Mostly gone. Kind of painful. I was actually going to go take something for it…I think I left my painkillers downstairs."

"I can grab them for you, if you want," Monica offered.

"You don't have to-"

"No, I was going down there anyway. For a drink. Then you don't have to limp all the way down there."

Chandler finally conceded. "Okay, thanks."

"Be right back," Monica headed downstairs to the kitchen, grabbing his bottle of painkillers off of the counter and filling up two glasses of water before heading back upstairs. She returned to the guest room to find Chandler sitting on the edge of the bed. "Here you go," she handed him the bottle and glass of water.

"Thanks," Chandler took them from her, opening the bottle and taking a pill, swallowing it with a drink of water. "How?" he looked up at her, setting the water on the table beside the bed.

"What?"

"How?" he laughed. "How did you cut my toe off? Like…what were you doing?"

Monica reddened, looking down at the glass of water still in her hands. She shook her head. "It's embarrassing."

Chandler laughed. "Well, as the one sitting here with only nine and a half toes, I think I deserve an explanation."

"Oh, god, I'm sorry," Monica again apologized, taking a seat on the bed.

Chandler smiled. "I wasn't trying to make you feel bad. Just trying to guilt you into telling me."

Monica shook her head, trying to hold back a smile at that. "It's embarrassing. I'm not going to say it."

"My father headlines a gay burlesque show in Vegas. When I was younger, I once performed in 'It's Raining Men' with him. That's an embarrassing story," Chandler paused. "Okay, now you go."

Monica laughed. "You're making that up."

"How do you make something like that up?"

Monica again laughed, shaking her head. "I'm still not telling you."

Chandler shrugged, standing up and limping over to the door, closing it. "Well, I'm not letting you go until you do."

Monica raised her eyebrows at him. "You're holding me hostage in my own house?"

"Something like that," he grinned, again sitting down on the bed, scooting back and leaning against the pillows.

Monica set her glass of water down on the bedside table. "Does your dad really headline a burlesque show in Vegas?"

Chandler nodded. "And my mother writes erotic novels. I feel like any questions of 'God, what's wrong with him?' can be answered by knowing those two facts."

"Wow, your parents seem so much more interesting than mine," Monica said, moving next to him.

"I'm not sure more interesting is better."

Monica shrugged. "At least they don't hate you."

Chandler scoffed. "Your parents don't hate you."

"Well, they do like Ross more than me." Chandler shrugged at that. "No, they don't, Monica. They love you both the same," she prompted him.

"No, they don't, Monica. They love you both the same," he echoed, grinning, and she laughed. "Who is spending Thanksgiving with their parents, and who is spending it with his roommate's family and is now missing a toe thanks to his roommate's sister?"

Monica's face again fell. "I really am sorry…."

Chandler laughed. "I'm just going to keep saying that for as long as you feel guilty about it."

Monica shook her head, smacking him lightly on the shoulder. "You're a jerk."

"Yea," he nodded. "But did you hear what I said my parents did for a living? I had a really messed up childhood," he laughed as she again shook her head at him.

~.~

Monica looked at Chandler, who was now lying beside her on the bed, both of them on their stomachs facing each other. "So, what, you want to write erotic romance novels like your mom?" she teased after he said he had always wanted to be a writer.

"God, no," Chandler scoffed. "Maybe something more satirical."

"Why? It's not like you have the sarcastic tone down or anything," she grinned at him, and he took the pillow from beneath his head, hitting her in the face. She shook her head. "Completely uncalled for."

"Was it?" he asked, and she smacked him back with a pillow. "_That_ was completely uncalled for," he laughed, taking the pillow from her, placing it, with the other one, beneath his head. "Have you always wanted to be a chef?" he asked, getting back to their conversation.

Monica shrugged. "Yea, kind of. I can remember always being fascinated with cooking and baking since I was a little kid. I'd been thinking about it all through high school, but I felt like no one would take me seriously about it since I was, ya know…heavier… And my parents…it's not that they're terrible people, they just…aren't very supportive, and I think my mom kind of thought of me being a chef as a bit of a joke. And, god, I can't believe I'm actually telling you this," Monica paused. "Last Thanksgiving, when I made you dinner, and you were like, 'oh, you should be a chef,' that was, like, it. And you were probably joking-"

Chandler shook his head. "Not joking. What was in that mac and cheese? Like ten kinds of cheeses? God, that's like something you order at a five-star restaurant…."

Monica laughed, blushing slightly at the complement. "Not quite, but thank you."

"Yea, I was kind of disappointed that the whole going to the hospital thing kind of put a damper on me getting to have it again…."

Monica smiled, nudging him to move over so that she could share the pillow with him. "I'll make it for you some other time."

Chandler returned her smile, heart beating quicker as she moved closer. "Deal."

~.~

"Hey, do you think," Chandler touched Monica's side lightly, and she laughed, flinching slightly. "Did that tickle?" Monica shook her head, so he did it again, this time purposefully tickling her. Monica laughed, rolling away from his touch. Chandler moved closer, tickling her again. "Are you ticklish?"

"Chandler," she said in between laughs. "Chandler, stop," she continued to laugh.

"Shh, you're going to wake up your parents," he warned teasingly, his fingers digging into either of her sides as she continued to laugh, squirming beneath his touch.

He paused, face close to hers, as her laughing subsided slightly. She smiled slightly, but took the moment to get revenge, nearly pouncing on him, knocking him onto his back as she tickled him.

Taken by surprise, he laughed, hard, squirming beneath her now. "Stop, stop, I'm really ticklish…"

Monica grinned. "Shh, you'll wake up my parents," she echoed what he had said to her, continuing to tickle him.

Chandler was stronger that she was, though, and rolled on top of her, both of them still laughing, pinning her beneath him, holding one of her arms in each of his hands, their faces inches apart. She stopped fighting back as he released her arms, touching her cheek lightly, running his thumb down it. She stared into his eyes, all but holding her breath, knowing what was coming next.

He pressed his lips to hers, softly, just for a couple of seconds, pulling back to gauge her reaction. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her again. She parted her lips, feeling his tongue with her own, his hand moving beneath her tshirt on her bare lower back, then farther up her back, realizing she wasn't wearing a bra. She moved her hands beneath his tshirt, as well, kissing him harder before tickling him again.

Chandler pulled back, laughing as he rolled away. "Mean. That was mean."

Monica laughed, as well. "Who is holding who hostage?"

Chandler smiled as she again moved closer to him. "Monica Geller, I think you're here by your own free will…."

~.~

Chandler lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling, Monica's head on his chest, as he glided his fingers between hers.

"I think I'm ready to tell you why," she said quietly.

"Why what?" Chandler looked down at her, confused.

"Why you now only have nine and a half toes. How that happened," she explained slowly, sitting up so that she was facing him.

Chandler sat up, as well, leaning back against the wall.

Monica looked down. "Well, last year, I kind of overheard you and Ross talking after dinner, and…you told him you didn't want to be stuck here all night with-with his fat sister…."

"Oh my god, I called you fat? I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry," Chandler grabbed her hands. "That's terrible. God, I don't even remember that." Monica shrugged. "God, why don't you hate me right now? I kind of hate me right now..."

Monica again shrugged, still not looking at him, but not pulling away from his touch, either. "Anyway, Rachel was trying to help me come up with a way to get back at you for that, and I wanted to do something that would humiliate you and make you feel as bad as you made me feel last year-"

"I'm sorry-"

Monica shook her head, moving away from him. "This is so embarrassing I can't even look at you and tell you."

"More embarrassing than me not even remembering calling you fat? We just made out for a good half hour and have been flirting for a good three hours, and, I swear to god, I don't even remember that last year. God, I feel like a jackass."

Monica shrugged. "Different kind of embarrassing," she said quietly, still looking away. "Anyway, Rachel basically said to try to seduce you, to get you naked, and then somehow in our grand scheme I could get you outside and lock you out there naked for everyone to point and laugh at, and," Monica laughed at herself. "God, I don't know what happened, with the box and the knife, or how we thought the whole thing was going to work," she shook her head. "I'm sorry," she finally looked up at Chandler, who laughed. "What?"

"That is the most ridiculous way to get someone back, ever."

Monica nodded. "Can we just never talk about either of those things again, ever?"

"If I can apologize a few more times…."

Monica smiled. "I cut off your toe. We're even."

Chandler laughed at that. "Touché." He paused, awkwardly. "Can I kiss you again now?"

Monica nodded. "I was kind of hoping you would…."

~.~

"Dude," Ross smacked at Chandler's feet, walking into the guest room the next morning to find Chandler and Monica sleeping there together. "What the hell?"

"Why? Why would you smack my foot?" Chandler groaned, his toe throbbing, his arm still around Monica, who he was spooning.

"Why are you in bed with my little sister?" Ross countered, trying to keep his voice down so that their parents didn't come in there. "Please, please tell me you're both fully clothed…."

At that, Monica pulled back the covers for a moment to reveal that they were, before pulling them back down around them. "Go away, Ross," she grumbled.

"You're lucky I came in here, not Mom and Dad," Ross scoffed, not moving.

"We'll be down for breakfast in a minute, Ross," Monica looked up at him, Chandler also silently pleading for him to leave them alone.

Ross huffed. "Fine, but this conversation is not over," he finally turned to leave, pulling the door shut behind him.

~.~

"For the seventy-fifth time, no, we did not have sex last night," Chandler groaned as he and Ross walked back towards their dorms.

"Well, what the hell happened?" Ross asked, having kept quiet on the drive back since he was freezing Chandler out, angry with him for whatever happened the night before.

"You want, like, details?" Chandler quipped, and Ross made a face of disgust. "Look, I really like her, okay?" Chandler added, more seriously as he opened the door.

"So, what, are you guys going to date or something now?" Ross asked, following Chandler inside. Chandler froze, his sight landing on a man sitting on the benches beside the elevator, a few feet from the front desk. "Dude, I asked you a question."

"Dad," Chandler said, not even hearing Ross's question, the sight of his father, in street clothes instead of in drag, waiting for him, catching him completely off guard.

Charles stood up, walking over to the boys. "Let's go find somewhere to talk, son," he said quietly, placing a hand on Chandler's shoulder. Chandler froze, knowing at once that something was wrong.

"Later, man," Ross said quietly, also getting that feeling as he headed onto the elevator and away from them.

"Chandler," Charles said, Chandler still glued to the same spot he had been standing in, his stomach dropping. "Chandler," he repeated, and Chandler finally looked up at him. "Your mom was in a car accident…."


	2. Chapter Two

**The Adjustment Bureau**

**Chapter Two  
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~.~

_I'm glad you guys are excited about this one :) As I said, this is different from what I usually write. Hope this all makes sense…if not, it will eventually. I feel like I say that a lot…. I always follow through on it, though, right? Hope so…._

_Thanks for the reviews and alert-adds! I had a bit of a flashback to the Good Ol' Days of this fandom with the amount of reviews/adds in my in-box when I got home last night! :) Keep it up, please!_

~.~

~.~

**August 1994**

~.~

Six men stood on the roof of a sky-scrapper in the city, despite the rain, each one wearing a trench coat and hat of their choosing. Tom, the tallest of the six, looked out over the horizon as the sun began to rise, barely visible through the rain clouds. He turned to head back into the building, the other five following. He fell in step with the younger-looking man behind him, who was wearing a Yankees cap.

"8:35, Nathaniel," he warned. "He needs to go back up to his hotel room by 8:35. He can trip and spill his coffee, he can leave his bag upstairs, I don't care how you do it. He needs to go back upstairs by 8:35."

"Yes, sir," Nathaniel replied.

"This is an easy one, Nathaniel," Tom continued. "Last time we worked together, I spent nearly a decade cleaning up your mess. Don't screw this one up."

"I won't. 8:35," Nathaniel replied, turning the doorknob clockwise, walking from the rooftop directly onto the streets of New York that appeared for him behind the door, Tom and the other five following after.

Nathaniel situated himself on a bench at a bus stop where he could see the hotel Chandler Bing was staying in, glancing at the time. He still had a few hours. Closing his eyes, he leaned his head against the wall, drifting off to sleep.

~.~

Chandler glanced at his reflection one last time in his hotel room mirror, deciding he looked pretty professional and grown-up. He took a deep breath, excited to meet with his mother's former publisher. Her former editor (and good friend, as it had turned out) had told him to get in contact with her if he needed anything, and that his mother had thought the world of him. After moving to the West Coast to take care of his mother's affairs after she died, he had taken take a couple of years off school before finishing. He changed his major to creative writing, and the year after graduation, he had written a book. Actually, it had been the few months after graduation. He had called up his mother's editor, who enthusiastically told him to send her a copy, and here he was, what seemed to be endless drafts and nearly a year later.

Here he was.

He slung his bag across his chest, grabbed his wallet from the bedside table, and headed downstairs. Walking through the front doors of the hotel, he couldn't help but smile. He had, undoubtedly, missed New York. He needed to get away, though, from any childhood memories he had of his mom. It had come as a bit of a shock to him, how much he had been blown away when she was killed in a car accident, since she had never been a huge part of his life.

But, she was his mom.

And he found he missed the occasional phone call of her checking up on him, or the infrequent visit. And after he flew to California and saw all of her life for the past few years that he had never even tried to be a part of, it had killed him even more. Neither of them had tried hard enough, and now it was too late. That was the thought that sent him in search of himself for a good two years, moving around, doing the whole trip to Europe thing, working odd jobs (not for the paycheck, since Nora had left him a sizeable amount of money and he was receiving royalties from her novels, but to keep busy and meet people), and landing in Vegas when he was done with it all to get to know his father (god forbid something terrible happen to his other parent before he got to know him) and finish up school.

But, god, he had missed New York and the East Coast.

Chandler paused at a cross walk, a dark-haired woman catching his eye coming from the other direction. She almost looked like-

"Monica Geller," he called out as she passed by, and she slowed to a stop. God, it was her. Chandler grinned, taking the few steps remaining between them. "Hey."

"Hey," she smiled in return. "How are you? You kind of disappeared…."

"Yea," Chandler nodded, running a hand through his hair. Actually, he had completely disappeared. Ross had packed up his things and sent them to him at his mom's house; he never even came back. "I'm sorry about that. I was going to call you, and then with everything with my mom, I just…" he trailed off, not sure what to say. He had liked her, and she had liked him, and then…life happened. "And then it had been so long, and it felt like it would be weird to call…."

Monica nodded. "I'm sorry about your mom…Ross told me. That must have been rough."

Chandler nodded, then looked down at his watch. "God, I'm sorry, I have to go. I'd love to catch up, but I have a meeting with my publisher, and then a plane to catch-"

"Publisher?" Monica raised her eyebrows.

"Yea," Chandler grinned. "I kinda wrote a book."

"No way!"

"Yep," he grinned. "Hey, can I get your number? Maybe next time I'm back, we can get coffee or something and catch up? With this book deal, I should be back again in the next couple of weeks."

Monica nodded. "Definitely." She dug through her wallet, pulling out an old receipt and writing her phone number on the back.

Chandler smiled, both of them staring almost awkwardly at one another. "It was really good to see you."

"You, too."

Chandler held up her number. "I'll give you call next time I'm in town," he turned to leave. "Bye, Monica."

"Bye, Chandler," she replied, watching his retreating figure hurrying down the crowded Manhattan street until he faded out of view. "Chandler-freaking-Bing," she shook her head, unable to believe she had run into him, having thought she would never see him again in her life. She laughed to herself, still shaking her head as she headed back in her own direction.

~.~

Nathaniel jerked awake, immediately looking down at the time: 8:42.

"Shit," he sprang up, pulling a leather-bound book out of his pocket, glancing over the page before sprinting down the street in the direction he knew he needed to be heading. "Shit, shit, shit."

~.~

Chandler walked into the front office of his publisher, frowning at the lack of activity. He doubled-checked his watch, wondering why the receptionist was away from the desk and why it was so quiet in there. Shrugging, he turned down the hall towards Patrick's office, having been there before. The door was half-open, so he walked in, freezing at the sight of three men in what looked like hazmat suites surrounding Patrick at his desk, Patrick seemingly frozen.

"What the hell?" Chandler said, the five men in the room looking up at him.

"Get him!" Tom ordered the two men closest to the door, Chandler taking off in a sprint back down the hall. Tom shook his head. "Oh, Nathaniel," he sighed, taking off after them, as well.

"There's no use running, Chandler," Tom pointed out, making Chandler jump as he seemingly appeared from behind a door further down the hall. He sighed as Chandler continued to run, though finally cornering himself at the end of the corridor.

"How do you know my name? Who the hell are you? What were you doing to Patrick?" Chandler asked, back against the wall, trying to decide if he could again out run these men.

"That was something you weren't supposed to see," Tom responded, nodding at the two other men who had been chasing him, since he was about to make a run for it again, and they both lunged towards him, one of them with something that looked like a taser, catching Chandler before he fell to the ground.

Tom snapped his fingers, walking back down the hall, turning the first doorknob they came to clockwise, walking into a bright, nearly-empty room, the other two men following behind with Chandler.

~.~

Chandler came around slowly, realizing at once that he was bound to a chair. He looked up, the man he had been talking to earlier speaking in hushed tones to a couple of other men in the empty room.

"Hey!" Chandler shouted, the man he assumed to be in charge turning towards him. "Yea, you," he nodded.

"Are we resetting him?" Nathaniel asked slowly, obviously not keen on the idea.

"Can we just bullshit him?" another one of the men asked.

Tom shook his head. "It will eat at him forever, and he'll try to find out the truth if we don't just come out with it."

"Hey!" Chandler again shouted, and Tom finally headed over to him.

"Chandler," Tom nodded at him.

"How do you know who I am? Where am I? What were you doing to Patrick?" Chandler asked. "Who the hell are you guys?"

Tom smiled slightly. "Let's start with that last one," he began. "We are from the Adjustment Bureau. We are the ones in charge of the oh-so-slight adjustments needed to make sure everything stays on course," Tom nodded for his men to untie Chandler, which they did.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"You know those times when it seems like you get every stop light red, or you spill your coffee and have to change and are late for work?"

"So, what, you guys control the fate of human kind?" Chandler scoffed, folding his arms.

"No, of course not. The Chairman controls your fate," Tom explained. Chandler looked around for a door, finally spotting one and taking off towards it. However, he tripped, falling to the ground. "Don't you think I saw that coming?" Tom asked. "Might want to tie those," he pointed to Chandler's untied shoelaces.

Chandler stayed seated on the ground, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You weren't supposed to see what you saw this morning. Actually, no one is ever supposed to see what you saw this morning," Tome explained. "You weren't supposed to run into Monica Geller. In fact, you were never supposed to see her again in your life. You were supposed to have gone back up to your hotel room, which would have meant you wouldn't have run into her and wouldn't have seen what you saw happening to Patrick," Tom continued on.

"Which was what, exactly?"

"Just changing his mind on a few things," Tom explained. "Helping him make a few decisions. He is fine, by the way. He won't remember any of it happening."

Chandler scoffed. "So, you guys make all of our decisions for us?"

"Not all of them," Tom shrugged. "We just step in to help with the important ones when you're deviating from The Plan."

"What the hell is 'The Plan?' Chandler asked, making air quote around the last two words.

Tom smiled, holding out a book with a complex, moving diagram on it. "It's exactly what it sounds like. It's your fate," he snapped the book shut, pulling it back.

Chandler finally stood up. "So, what now?"

"Now," Tom explained, "we let you go. However, you are under no circumstances allowed to mention The Adjustment Bureau. If you so much as tell someone about us by accident, we will be forced to reset you."

"Reset me?"

"Reset you," Tom nodded. "We will erase your memories, your personality, everything. Chandler Bing as you know him will be gone." Chandler stared at him in disbelief. "And you don't want to try us on that one," Tom again paused. "Oh, and," he held out the receipt with Monica's phone number on it, tearing it to pieces, "it's best you forget you even ran into her today. As I said, you weren't ever supposed to see her again in your life."

"But-"

"But nothing," Tom shook his head. "Now, you're going to go to your meeting, get on your plane, and get on with your life."

Chandler stared at him in disbelief.

Tom nodded towards Nathaniel. "Nathaniel will take you back to where you need to go."

Nathaniel stepped forwards, motioning for Chandler to follow him. He did so, following Nathaniel over to the door on the far side of the room. Nathaniel placed a hand on Chandler's shoulder, reaching for the doorknob with his free hand. He pushed Chandler through the door and back into the hallway outside his publisher's office.

Chandler turned back towards the door, which was now closed. He opened it, but all that was behind it was a janitor's closet. Chandler frowned. He again open and closed the door, before heading down the hall, shaking his head at himself.

"If it isn't my second favorite Bing," Chandler turned around at the sound of Patrick's voice from behind him. "C'mon, kid, let's chat," he motioned for Chandler to follow him into his office.

Chandler looked around once more, shook his head to clear it, and then followed Patrick into his office, unsure of what else he could do and what the hell had just happened to him.

~.~

Tom looked at Nathaniel, shaking his head.

"You think he's going to try going after her?" Nathaniel asked.

"Not right now," Tom responded.

"I can see that," Nathaniel replied dryly. "I meant in the future. Do you think he'll try to see her again?"

Tom shrugged. "Not with you as his caseworker," he slapped Nathaniel on the back. "Have fun babysitting. And if he so much as starts to tell anyone about us-"

"I know the drill," Nathaniel mumbled, heading towards the door. He turned the doorknob clockwise, heading through it and onto the busy streets of New York, knowing he needed to do his best to keep Chandler from coming back to The City again any time soon, having a feeling he would try to see Monica Geller again if he were to return.

~.~

_Still interested in this one? I'm not a mind-reader, so, you should probably review to let me know ;)_


	3. Chapter Three

**The Adjustment Bureau**

**Chapter Three**

~.~

_Um, who rules at life? That would be you guys! Lisztian_Dragon, bingsrule, lainel, AimeeLouise, Exintaris, JennLovesMondler, Cindy, bobbiejod, dancer_cherrybug, CSINYLoveXX4Ever, friendsfan101, and KatieKatx3. Do you see all of those reviewers? For only 2 chapters? You guys rock!_

_Also, I'm glad you guys are liking this so far. And if you haven't seen the movie yet, you should totally see it. But, after I'm done, so you don't give away too much of what's going to happen…._

~.~

~.~

**June 1996**

~.~

Chandler sprinted from the gate his plane had landed at to the nearest newspaper stand. The review for his newest book came out that morning, but since he was running late for his flight to New York, he hadn't gotten a chance to buy a paper. And, as luck would have it, no one around him on the plane had a paper, either. Paying for a paper, he moved out of the way of the crowds of people, stopping beside a wall as he flipped open the paper. Before he could get to his review, though, something else caught his eye: Monica Geller's picture, in a chef's coat and hat, under the headline _Young Chef and Restaurateur Set To Open Second Location Friday Night_.

~.~

"Did you see your review this morning, Bing?" Patrick asked, meeting Chandler just inside the door in his office, handing him a cup of coffee. Over the last couple of years, Patrick had taken Chandler under his wing, and Chandler found himself looking at his mother's old friend as a mentor and friend, as well.

Chandler smiled. "Sure did."

"Then why aren't you ecstatic? That, kid, was a rave!" Patrick exclaimed, sitting on the edge of his desk. "Not many people get one of those!"

Chandler's first two books had been fairly well-receive critically, had sold a fair amount, but his review for his third book blew the other two out of the water.

"I think you've found your niche with this romantic sci fi thing," Patrick nodded as Chandler took a seat in a chair.. "Hey, kid, where are you this morning?" he asked, Chandler obviously somewhere else.

Chandler smiled. "You know that girl from a couple years ago that I told you about?"

Patrick nodded after a moment. Chandler didn't share much about his personal life (or didn't have much of a personal life), so Patrick knew exactly who he was referring to. "Your old roommate's sister? Lost her number or something, and she's unlisted?"

Chandler nodded. "That's the one." He pulled out his paper, which was still open to the article on the opening of the new location of her restaurant. "And that," he lay the paper down on the desk for Patrick to see, "is her."

~.~

Nathaniel groaned, taking off in a sprint. He ran in one door, turned the handle clockwise, and ran out into an entirely different location. He ran through restaurants and offices, trying to make it from Uptown Manhattan to Downtown Manhattan before Chandler Bing did something Nathaniel would be paying for later.

~.~

Chandler looked up at the sign outside of the restaurant: Javu. He looked down at his watch, noting that it was still early. Looking around, Chandler tried to decide if he thought Monica would already be there for the day, or if she would even be there at all with a new location opening the next night. He considered ringing the service bell for a moment before also considering leaving and coming back in a couple of hours. Lord only knew what could happen in a couple of hours if The Adjustment Bureau discovered he was trying to see Monica again, though.

Just as he was about to turn to leave, he grinned, seeing who he had come in search of. Monica stopped walking, still a few paces from him, shaking her head at him.

"Hey, stranger," Chandler was the first to speak.

Monica hesitated. She had been pretty smitten over him as a teenager, and when she had run into him a couple of years earlier, had allowed herself to get excited over the prospect of catching up with him and what it might lead to. Whatever had happened between them felt so unfinished, and she thought it was going to give them an opportunity to remedy that. "So, do you always make a habit of not calling when you say you will?" she asked, rather shortly.

Chandler's face fell. "I didn't have your number."

"I gave it to you," Monica replied, moving past him, pulling her keys from her pocket as she headed for the door.

"I lost it," Chandler replied.

"How does that happen, exactly?"

Chandler shrugged. "I don't know. I had it, and then I got on the plane, and I didn't have it anymore. I tried to look up your number, but it's unlisted," he paused. "Do you know how many Monica Gellers there are in Manhattan? None of which are you?" Monica smiled slightly at that. "Ross's number is also unlisted."

Monica nodded. "As is our parent's. Guess we got that from them," she smiled slightly, deciding she bought his story.

"Can I buy you lunch?" Chandler blurted out.

Monica smiled. "It's 9:15…."

"Can I buy you breakfast, then? Lunch, dinner, a midnight snack?"

Monica paused for a second, thinking. "I kind of have a lot to do today. We're opening a new location tomorrow…"

"In Midtown, I saw that in the paper," Chandler nodded, excited for her. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks," Monica replied, playing with her keys, unable, for some reason, to say no to him. "I could probably do breakfast. I'm not making any promises about the other two meals, though."

Chandler smiled at that. He hadn't had many personal relationships in the past few years. Actually, he'd had hardly any of any kind. He'd met people, so many people, but everyone was an acquaintance, a business contact, someone he stole a personality quirk from for a character in a book. Outside of Patrick, he honestly didn't have any close friends, and though he had had a few flings here and there, he hadn't even had a single serious relationship in the past nearly decade.

It might have been a reflex action after his mother's death, but as someone who already had trouble letting people in, he became even more closed off. The last person he had actually let in, let his guard down to… Well, that person was standing in front of him,

"There's this coffee house, Central Perk," Monica said, sticking her keys back in her pocket. "I could do coffee and breakfast quick," she added, heading back in the direction she had been coming from, Chandler falling into step beside her. "I read your books, by the way. All three of them."

Chandler smiled sheepishly. "Yea?"

She nodded. "The second one's my favorite," she added. "It's not very often a book actually makes me cry."

"Really?"

Monica nodded. "It was just so…honest…."

Chandler actually smiled at that. "It wasn't what I was originally going for, but it kind of turned out that way."

Monica pointed in the direction of Central Perk as they neared it, and Chandler nodded in acknowledgement. "So, why did you come looking for me?"

Chandler laughed shortly at that, shaking his head as they continued to walk. "I just-I always felt like there was something here, something unfinished," he finally said. "I felt like there was something that never got a chance," he added. "I'm moving back here in a month or so," he continued, "I'm actually in town looking at apartments."

Monica tried not to look too excited about that. "Really?"

Chandler nodded. "Yea, I've lived a lot of places in the past 8 years, and just…none of them were home," he shrugged. "I miss home."

~.~

Nathaniel leaned back against the wall just outside Central Perk, watching as Monica and Chandler neared, trying to sink into the background.

"I thought you had this under control."

Nathaniel jumped at the sound of Tom's voice as he stopped beside him.

"I thought so, too," Nathaniel replied, the two men watching as Chandler and Monica headed inside. "He was still unsure about moving back to New York this morning," Nathaniel added, Chandler pausing as he held the door open for Monica, seeing Nathaniel and Tom out of the corner of his eye.

Tom nodded. "Hopefully that should do it."

Nathaniel watched the two sit down on the orange couch inside, Tom heading towards the door.

"As long as they don't kiss, they're fine. We can work something out," Tom explained.

"And if they kiss?" Nathaniel asked.

"Then you have a long night ahead of you," Tom raised his eyebrows at him, Nathaniel staying outside as Tom walked inside to keep a closer eye on Chandler. "I have Johnson working on something at her restaurant, should get you off the hook for now," he added.

~.~

Chandler was very aware of the two men watching them, very aware of what their presence meant. But, he also knew they weren't going to out themselves, so he figured there was little they could do to stop him. So, he continued talking to Monica, enjoying making her laugh, glad that the awkwardness he had felt only a few minutes earlier was slipping away. He smiled warmly when she touched his leg, beside her on the couch, knowing he had made the right decision to come see her. Because every time he was around her, granted, it had only been a few occasions, his whole world calmed down. He felt at peace, something he normally never felt. He let his guard down and could be himself.

As Monica's cell phone rang and she answered it, Chandler suddenly realized the flaw in his earlier logic.

"Wait-what happened? No, that delivery was supposed to go to Midtown, not Downtown. No-no, don't let the driver drop it off. Yea, I'll be there in two minutes," Monica hung up her phone. "I'm so sorry," she looked at Chandler, who nodded sadly. An Adjustment. They had made an Adjustment. "This just isn't a good time," she moved to stand up, leaving her nearly-full coffee cup on the table. "Do you want to come to the opening tomorrow night?" she looked at him hopefully. "I can put you on the list."

"I'd love to," Chandler nodded sincerely, standing up, as well. "This is going to sound weird, and probably a bit pathetic, and maybe a bit stalker-ish, but," he paused, Monica chuckling slightly at that, "can I see you tonight? Like, have a late dinner or… something?"

Monica paused, biting her lower lip. She felt like she had work to be done, but also knew that after this delivery today, the new location was set for the grand opening. Their run-through the past week had gone smoothly, and she had little else to do to finish preparing after everything she had done the last few days.

And she could feel why Chandler wanted to see her again. It was strange, but she understood because…she could feel it, too. The need for this not to be over for the day, not to be over until he moved back for good, not to be over after the 8-year hiatus from their beginning.

She needed to see him again, too.

"I would love that," Monica smiled sincerely. "There's a Chinese place about two stores down," she pointed down the street. "I live just upstairs. We can grab some takeout and head back there? Finish catching up?"

Chandler nodded. "Sounds like a plan."

"Ten o'clock?"

Chandler grinned. "I'll see you at ten," he nodded. They both stood awkwardly, not sure how to say goodbye. Chandler decided to say to hell with it and leaned in to kiss her, but as he did, a waiter walked by, nearly spilling a pot of coffee on them, causing them to break apart.

Monica laughed. "I'll see you tonight."

Chandler nodded. Another Adjustment. "I'll see you tonight," he replied, watching her walk out the door.

"I thought we had an understanding," Tom appeared beside him, seconds later.

Chandler looked at him, and then headed for the door. "Well, I decided my happiness is more important than your stupid 'Plan,'" Chandler shrugged. "Besides, what were the chances that I would run into her two years ago, and then I opened a paper as soon as I landed here this time, and, there's her picture. **That** is fate," Chandler added.

"No, that's chance," Tom shook his head, "not fate."

Chandler shrugged. "Same thing."

"I don't think you're understanding this," Tom stopped walking, moving so he was blocking Chandler's path on the sidewalk. "I didn't want to have to resort to this, but here it is," he paused. "You're on the brink of an amazing career, and so is she. But if you meet her tonight, that's not how things are going to work," he explained. "You two together is not part of the plan. She is supposed to end up with someone else, a boyfriend she just broke up with. Richard Burke."

Chandler shook his head. "No, I don't believe you."

Tom shrugged. "That's the way it's supposed to go. You meet her tonight, and you're changing both of your fates, and not for the better."

"If we're not meant to be together, then why do I feel this way every time I'm around her, huh?" Chandler asked, taking off back down the street. When Tom didn't respond, he laughed. "You don't know why, do you?"

"I do know that if you're together, things are not going to go as planned, for you or for her," Tom warned.

Chandler looked him in the eye. "Fuck your plan," he said, Tom staying behind as Chandler continued down the street, Tom knowing very well that at that moment, Chandler still planned to meet up with Monica that night.

Chandler Bing certainly wasn't making this easy for him.

~.~

_You guys keep it up with all of the awesome reviews, and I'll keep up with the quick updates. Deal? :)_


	4. Chapter Four

**The Adjustment Bureau**

**Chapter Four**

~.~

_Holy crap, you guys are seriously all kinds of amazing with all of the reviews! I'm in a hurry to post this since I have things to do today, so I don't have time to thank all of you individually, but THANK YOU!_

~.~

**June 1996**

~.~

Chandler let himself get a good block away from Tom before glancing behind him to see if he, or anyone else creepy-looking who was wearing a hat since they always seemed to be wearing a hat, was following him. Thankfully, he found himself alone. Well, as alone as one could be on the streets of New York.

Letting out a sigh of relief as he headed back to his hotel, he thought that had been all too easy.

~.~

Nathaniel looked around the hotel lobby where Chandler was staying, before heading towards a janitorial closet, turning the doorknob counter-clockwise, slipping through it and pulling it shut behind him. Once through the door, he entered a long hallway, heading towards a room that, if anyone not from The Bureau were somehow to enter, looked like a library. He stopped in front of the table in the middle where Tom was seated.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Tom nodded, holding up a leather-bound book with the word 'outdated' stamped to the front. "It's not your fault."

"What's not my fault?" Nathaniel asked.

"Chandler running into Monica again," he handed the book to Nathaniel, who flipped it open. "In an earlier version of The Plan-"

"They ended up together," Nathaniel whispered in amazement. "So, how do we keep them apart?"

Tom shook his head, taking the book back, heading back into the stacks for a moment, returning later without it. "Now, we let him see what happens if he stays with Monica."

Nathaniel shook his head. "But-"

Tom turned towards him. "What was that?" Nathaniel stared back at him, closed-lipped. "That's what I thought."

~.~

Chandler glanced down at his watch, which read 9:45, before standing up and heading to his hotel room door. He hadn't dared to step a foot outside all day, unsure of what Adjustment they could possibly try to make if he did. He figured the less time he left himself, the better. Glancing around the lobby, Chandler breathed a sigh of relief, heading to the door. He decided to walk rather than take a taxi since it would probably be quicker.

Every time he passed someone on the street wearing any kind of hat, he held his breath. Yet, he somehow found himself outside of the Chinese restaurant Monica had been referring to a few minutes before ten. He glanced through the window, seeing that Monica was already inside, and headed in with a grin; maybe he had finally gotten rid of The Bureau, after all.

"Hey," Monica smiled when he walked in.

"Hey," Chandler returned her greeting. "How was work?"

"You know, it actually went pretty smoothly after that wrong delivery, considering that our grand opening is tomorrow," she smiled. "I am starving, though. I think I forgot to eat lunch since I was so busy." Monica looked over the menu. "Know what you want?" Chandler nodded, so she ordered. "I'll have a cashew chicken to go," she told the man behind the counter.

"Make that two," Chandler added, moving up to pay.

"You don't have to buy me dinner," Monica protested.

Chandler smiled. "I think I've owed you dinner for about eight years now."

Monica laughed. "Actually, I think I've owed you dinner for that long."

"True. But, if I remember correctly, you were supposed to make me dinner," he smiled. "You can do that some other time."

Monica smiled at that. She had been unsure about agreeing to go to breakfast with him, and then agreeing to dinner tonight, but there was just…something. She thought it may have been the lingering feelings or a young fling and the what ifs that surrounded it after he disappeared and left things between them unfinished, but this feeling every time he was around made her think it might be something more than that.

Hell, if they kept running into each other, it had to have been some sort of sign. Fate, maybe, if she believed in such a thing.

"You live upstairs?" Chandler asked, taking the take-out bag.

"What?" Monica asked, having been thinking.

"You live upstairs?" he repeated, and Monica nodded.

"Yea. I don't think my roommate will be home," she said, heading towards the door. "Which is Rachel, by the way. Do you remember Rachel?"

Chandler laughed, following her outside and around the corner. "How could I not remember Rachel? She was all Ross talked about for over a year."

"This is going to kill you, then," she grinned, entering the code for her building before they walked in. "Ross and Rachel have been dating for almost a year."

"No way!" Chandler exclaimed, shaking his head as they climbed the stairs. "Good for him."

"Oh, he married Carol, too, did you know that?"

"Seriously?"

"Yea, but," Monica paused, stopping at her floor and heading over to unlock her door. "It turned out that she was a lesbian."

Chandler nodded. "Not a completely surprise, if you really think about it."

"Oh, and she was pregnant with his child at the time."

"Because, why not?" Chandler laughed as they walked into her apartment, setting the food on the table. "So, what about you? What have you been up to for the past eight years? Ya know, other than owning a couple of restaurants?"

Monica smiled, grabbing a couple of plates for them. "Do you use chopsticks, or want a fork?"

"Definitely a fork," Chandler nodded, the two of them sitting down at the table.

"What have I been up to?" Monica repeated as she sat down next to Chandler. "Well, I obviously finished culinary school…."

~.~

Chandler sat on the couch with Monica, arm securely around her, her head leaning against her shoulder. It felt weird; a major déjà vu. At the same time, there was something about it that just felt right. They had spent the past couple of hours catching up on the last few years of their lives, and though Monica knew she needed to get some sleep before her grand opening the next day, she didn't want to go to bed quite yet, either, and have this night be over.

"This is going to sound ridiculous," Chandler said quietly, neither of them really watching the movie playing on her TV. "But the only time I can ever remember feeling complete…is when I'm around you."

Monica smiled at that, her heart skipping a beat, mostly because she completely agreed. "Yea?" she looked up at him

"Yea," he replied, leaning down to kiss her. As soon as he did, the phone started ringing. He paused, but she shook her head.

"The restaurant calls me on my cell. The machine will get it," she mumbled as he kissed her again, this time snaking his arm around her waist and she moved so she was sitting on top of him.

_You've reached Monica and Rachel's. We're not here right now, but leave a message, and we'll get back to you._

_**Beep**_

_Hey, Monica, it's me_, a man's voice filled the room, and Chandler stopped kissing her, Monica burying her face in his shoulder,_ Richard_. Chandler's heart stopped. Was this an Adjustment? _I know it's late, and I don't know why I'm calling, but I just wanted to wish you-I wanted to wish you good luck tomorrow night. Hope everything goes as planned. Call me back. Or don't. Bye, Mon. _

_**Beep**_

"Ex-boyfriend?" Chandler finally asked quietly, and Monica nodded, pulling back to look at him.

"Yea."

"Was it…serious?" he asked slowly, knowing full well the answer to that. Monica again nodded. "Why did you break up?"

Monica shook her head. "I really don't want to talk about him right now, when I'm here with you." Chandler stared back, obviously not giving up. "He…he was older, and he didn't really want kids, and I did, and he offered to have kids anyway, but I knew he didn't mean it, and I didn't want us both to end up miserable and resenting each other for not really having what we wanted," she said quietly. "And," she paused, "this is going to sound stupid, but it just didn't…feel right." Chandler nodded. "This feels right," she added, touching his cheek softly, before kissing him again.

There was something about kissing him, familiar yet completely new. When his hands moved down her body, it was with more certainty than when they had done this as teenagers (not that she had spent any length of time replaying that night in her head, or anything). He tickled her side slightly, and she let out a small laugh.

"Still ticklish," Chandler mumbled, "just checking."

Monica smiled, pressing her body completely against his, moving with him as he lay down on the couch. She inhaled sharply as his fingers went from playing with the button on her pants to sliding down her pants, both of them shooting up suddenly as the door opened, adjusting their clothes.

"God, Mon, sorry," Rachel immediately said, she and Phoebe walking in.

"It's okay," Monica moved off of Chandler.

"Chandler?" Rachel asked, taking a good look at him.

"Hey, Rachel," he smiled in reply. "Small world."

"I'm Phoebe," Phoebe moved over to shake his hand. "You write books!"

Chandler laughed. "Yea, I do," he nervously ran a hand though his hair.

Monica stood up. "Well, I have a big day tomorrow, so I'm going to bed," she reached for Chandler's hand, pulling him with her. "Sorry," Monica said after they were through her closed bedroom door. "I don't know if that was a bit presumptuous, but-"

Chandler cut her off, shaking his head. "God, no," he replied, kissing her again, pulling back after a moment. "God, you're beautiful, you know that?"

Monica shook her head. "I just worked for thirteen hours. I'm a mess."

Chandler smiled. "Yea, but it works on you."

Monica laughed, kissing him again as they moved back towards her bed.

~.~

Monica woke up to the light shining through her window, having not set an alarm since she wanted to get a good night's sleep before today. She smiled, Chandler's arm around her, him still asleep beside her. She rolled over to face him, snuggling against him, kissing his bare chest.

"Morning," he whispered sleepily.

"Morning," Monica replied, smiling as he opened his eyes. "I don't usually do that on a first date," she grinned, and he laughed.

"I probably would have done that eight years ago if I hadn't been so damn nervous," he replied honestly.

Monica laughed. "I probably would have let you." Chandler smiled, kissing her. "I wish I could stay here all day with you…."

"Me, too," he replied. "Not today, though," he added. "Today is your big day, and you've worked hard for it, so you should enjoy it."

Monica nodded in agreement. "Yea, but first I'm going to enjoy a little more of it here with you," she kissed him again, moving on top of him.

"Not gonna say no to that," Chandler replied, feeling like he had finally outsmarted The Adjustment Bureau, if simply by telling them to take their plan and shove it.

~.~

"I'll see you tonight," Chandler kissed Monica, standing in the hallway outside of her apartment, saying goodbye.

"Yea, see you tonight," Monica replied. "I probably won't see you much-"

"Don't worry about it. It'll be exciting just to be a part of your night," he kissed her again. "Okay, really going this time," he laughed, since they had been standing there for a good fifteen minutes already. "Break a leg," he added.

"Bye," Monica said softly as they pulled away.

Chandler smiled, glancing at her once more. "Bye."

~.~

Chandler jumped when he walked into his hotel room to find Nathaniel already there.

"I thought I got rid of you guys," he sighed, closing the door behind him.

"I just came to warn you," Nathaniel replied.

"Warn me of what? The fact that your little 'Plan' is complete bullshit because Monica and I clearly are meant to be together?" Chandler laughed.

"In an earlier version, yes," Nathaniel replied.

"What?"

"In an earlier version of the plan, yes, you two were meant to be together," Nathaniel explained. "So, what now appears to be the two of you being meant to be together is simply…an afterimage."

"An afterimage?"

"Have you ever stared at a bright light and then closed your eyes, and you can see-"

"I know what an afterimage is," Chandler scoffed. "How the hell does that apply here?"

"Because the two of you are just an afterimage of an old plan, lingering even though it's no longer there," Nathaniel explained. "It kind of happens all the time. You know the feeling of déjà vu? All an afterimage. Anyway," he shook his head, "like I said, I came here to warn you. If you go tonight-"

"If I go tonight, what, exactly, happens?" Chandler asked. "Yea, that's what I thought. You don't know."

Nathaniel shrugged. "That information is above my pay-grade clearance."

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have things to do today," Chandler walked over to his door, opening it for Nathaniel to leave.

~.~

Chandler sat impatiently in the cab, glancing at his watch every few seconds. "Why aren't we moving," he grumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

"Two-alarm fire on Tenth," the cabbie replied, having heard him.

"Tenth and what?" Chandler asked, a sinking feeling in his stomach. "Tenth and what? What's the cross-street?" Chandler demanded.

"I don't know, man, that's all I heard."

"Damnit," Chandler pulled his wallet out, paying the driver before getting out of the cab, taking off in a sprint in the direction of Monica's restaurant. He slowed down as he got closer, knowing before he got there that the smoke rising in the sky had to be from her restaurant. Chandler kicked a fire hydrant as he walked by it, nearly out of breath, though still a couple of blocks away.

"He tried to warn you."

Chandler jumped as Tom came up behind him.

"Fuck you," Chandler replied.

"You two aren't supposed to end up together," Tom again tried to explain. "Right now, you're pretty successful, you've done okay for yourself. But your next book, the one you're working on right now," he paused, "that's it. That's the career-launcher. We're talking time on the New York Time's Bestseller List, a screen-play adaptation, everyone knowing your name…."

"I don't care," Chandler shrugged, continuing to walk towards the restaurant.

"Then maybe you do care about Monica," he said, and Chandler stopped, turning towards him. "Right now, she's making a name for herself locally. In the next couple of years, she makes a name for herself throughout the region, the country. She opens up more restaurants, studies under internationally renowned chefs, and makes a name for herself internationally. Right now," he pointed in the direction of the smoke, "the fire is contained in the business upstairs. Her restaurant has suffered mostly smoke damage. Nothing a couple of months and some insurance money won't fix. If it keeps burning-"

"Fuck you," Chandler repeated. "How the hell do you decide our fates? What the hell happened to free will?"

"We tried free will," Tom shrugged. "After the rise of the Roman Empire, and you know what happened? The Dark Ages. We stepped back again at the beginning of the twentieth century, thinking everything was under control again, and do you know what happened?" he paused again. "Two world wars, nuclear conflict-"

"What the hell does this have to do with either of us? Why is it so important that two people stay on track with The Plan?"

"Heard of the Butterfly Effect?" Chandler remained silent. "If you care about her, you will let her go. You will go home and finish your book and let her stay here and live out her dreams. You will allow both of you to live up to your potentials." Chandler still remained silent, chest rising and falling in anger. "Everything is still fixable tonight. By morning-"

"Yea, I think I've got it," Chandler nodded shortly. "I've got it," he replied, quieter, heading away from the restaurant.

Tom smiled, certain he had finally gotten through to Chandler Bing.

~.~

_Did he get trough to him? Did he? The suspense is killing me, so I can only imagine what it's doing to you ;) _

_Again, quick reviews = quick update!_


	5. Chapter Five

**The Adjustment Bureau**

**Chapter Five**

~.~

_Again, THANKS SO MUCH! You guys are making my summer with the reviews for this one. When I stopped writing Mondler to write more Randler, there was more of a demand for Randler than for Mondler. If, by chance, I'm not completely swamped with school this fall, I might have to write another Mondler fic (not that I would ever abandon Randler!). No promises. But, if you guys are going to stick around, and I have time, I might just do that…_

~.~

**June 1996**

~.~

Chandler walked around aimlessly for hours, contemplating what he was going to do. He wished away parts of his life that would have lead him to this agonizing point in time: He wished he had never gone to NYU and met Ross and therefore Monica, he wished he had never called his mom's editor, he wished he had never gone in search of Monica.

He didn't really wish any of that hadn't happened, though. There had been an emptiness inside of him, eating away at him for years, and, for some reason, when he was with Monica, that hole didn't seem so big. How could that not be the path meant for him in life?

What would he be taking from her, though, if he went after her? What if, somehow, things could have worked out for the best with that Richard guy, and she could have been happy and successful? What if she still could be? What if he was ruining her chances of that by going after her?

Chandler got on and off the subway, winding through the city, not sure where he wanted to end up. He wandered around until it was too late to go see Monica for the night. How could he go see her, anyway? Her Grand Opening had been, he assumed, a disaster, and he had stood her up on top of that. He had done nothing but get her hopes up time and again and then disappear. God, he was an asshole.

Finally hailing a cab, rain starting to fall, Chandler could only shake his head at the situation: The whole thing was ridiculous. Even if he were to try to explain it to anyone, he would only sound insane.

Maybe, though, insane was better than asshole.

~.~

Chandler watched the alarm clock in his hotel room change from twelve to one, from three to four…he dozed in and out of sleep, the pouring rain nearly drowning out the noises of the city outside his window. When morning finally came, he got out of bed, made a strong cup of coffee in the single-serving coffee maker in his room, and got dressed, his mind made up. If he didn't go after her today, that would probably be it. She might be mad or hurt, but as long as he got to her today, he left like he might still have a chance. Chandler hurried down to the lobby, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, coming to a sudden stop in front of the doors.

"Gonna stop me?" Chandler challenged Nathaniel, and he shook his head. "Tom going to stop me?"

Nathaniel smiled. "Let me explain something about us," he began. "We aren't mind-readers; we can only sense the decisions you are about to make. And that ability is severely impaired around water," he motioned outside. "I can assume where you're going right now, but," he shrugged, "I have no way to prove it."

"Huh," Chandler stopped, smiling slightly.

"If you're going, you need to move quickly, before the rain stops," Nathaniel explained, the two moving away from the doors. "Tom knows there is the possibility that you will go to Monica's today, despite your intentions last night. And he knows it's raining, so he has men planted between the hotel and her apartment to make adjustments as necessary. He actually has someone planted just outside," he motioned to a man they could see through the window in a trench coat and hat, leaning against the wall as if he was waiting for someone.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Nathaniel smiled. "Because I don't always agree with the system," he explained slowly. "I don't believe that The Plan is always what's best for everyone involved. And I know that it can be changed, I know The Chairman will change The Plan in some instances, but I don't know what those instances are or what one has to go through in order to make the changes stick," he paused. "I don't agree with sticklers like Tom who can never let a case go because of the ripple effects of one change on everything," Nathaniel laughed. "I find it hard to believe that letting you and Monica carry on miserably, yet successfully, is really what's best for either of you. I also find it hard to believe that anything in this world will be thrown completely off balance if you don't stick to your plan."

Chandler laughed. "What are you, some kind of renegade angel?"

Nathaniel smiled. "I just believe in the ways of the world. Everything might not work out for the best, but everything will eventually work itself out," he again paused. "We really need to hurry," he glanced around. "The rain is supposed to let up in the next hour or so."

"Do you know that for a fact?" Chandler asked, intrigued by what Nathaniel did and did not know.

Nathaniel smiled. "No, I was just watching the weather before you came down. Now, come on. We can't use the front door, and we certainly can't take a normal route to her apartment," he motioned for Chandler to follow him, heading quickly for the nearest door other than the front doors. "Now, I can't go with you the entire way, but we need to get away from the hotel in case Tom sends someone other than me to check up on you. I'll explain the rest of the route as we go. Downtown gets a little confusing. Ready for this?"

Chandler shrugged in bewilderment, and then nodded as Nathaniel reached for the doorknob. "Ready as I'll ever be…."

~.~

_I know this part was shorter, but I wanted to keep up with the quick updates, and…there's not a very good stopping point past here. I'll try to have another part up tomorrow, but if not tomorrow, Monday for sure! One or two more parts, depending on how I break it up, whoo! Who else is excited? I think this may be the quickest I've EVER written an entire story! (and, when it's over, I will get back to updating my other 2 fics, promise!)_


	6. Chapter Six

**The Adjustment Bureau**

**Chapter 6**

~.~

_My apologies for the delay…I really wanted to finish it in this one chapter, but…it's taking some time to write, so I'll split it up and post the first part now :)_

_And, THANK YOU SO MUCH for the reviews! You Mondler fans are incredible :)_

~,~

"Three moves," Nathaniel stated as the two men moved through the doorway at the hotel to the other side, where they were met by nearly pitch-black darkness. "I'm going to get you within three moves of her apartment," Nathaniel continued, voice quieter.

"Where are we?" Chandler asked, also quietly.

"A part of the Statue of Liberty you'll probably never see again," Nathaniel stated, removing his hat and handing it to Chandler. "This will make it so you can move alone," he explained, Chandler taking the hat from him. "And always—**always**- turn the doorknobs clockwise."

"What happens if I turn them the other way?" Chandler asked curiously, now moving down the dark corridor with Nathaniel.

"That's for us," he motioned to himself. "If you did that, you wouldn't make it very far once you were there," Nathaniel warned, and in the darkness, Chandler could make out a doorway. "Okay, once you pass through here, you're going to come out through a closet on the fortieth floor of the South Tower at The World Trade Center. You are going to go left and straight down the hall. The first door you come to head on, go through that one," Nathaniel continued. "That will take you to 14th Street. You will come out of-"

"A closet?" Chandler laughed. "You guys sure come out of a lot of those…"

"Do you know how many times a day we get those jokes?" Nathaniel raised his eyebrows at Chandler. "Okay, you are going to come out of a dry cleaner's. You need to cross 14th Street. There will be a small café on the corner; you can't miss it. Walk inside and turn left. There is a coat closet right behind the front door, and that will get you less than a block away from Monica's."

Chandler nodded. "Left, across the street, left. I think I have it."

"You sure?" Nathaniel asked, and Chandler nodded, putting Nathaniel's hat on his head. "Okay, good luck," he offered a hand, which Chandler shook. Chandler reached for the doorknob, Nathaniel offering one last word of advice. "Run."

Chandler took a deep breath, opening the door before even giving it a thought. Once through it, he pulled it shut, looking around as he, in amazement, realized Nathaniel was right: he came out of a janitorial closet of what appeared to be an office building. If he was right about that, Chandler decided he was probably right about running, as well. Taking off to his left, he immediately spotted the door at the end of the hallway Nathaniel had been referring to.

~.~

Tom looked up at the grey sky, the rain starting to let up. He pulled out his leather-bound book, shaking his head, before taking off running down the street.

~.~

Chandler ran out of the dry cleaner's, not even pausing before taking off across 14th Street, dodging in and out of traffic. The rain had let up, and it was hardly even drizzling. Eyes glued to the door of the café on the corner, he didn't once look back, knowing well that without the cover of the rain, someone, most likely Tom, could be coming after him at any moment.

Ducking into the café, he turned to his left, reaching for the doorknob before anyone could object. Darting through the door and out the other side, Chandler looked around, trying to get his barring. He was back on the street, and he quickly recognized where he was and that Monica's building was in sight. Still running, now nearly out of breath, he dodged between people on the sidewalk, the rain having completely stopped. Trying to catch his breath as he got closer, realizing the sound of feet pounding the pavement coming from behind him wasn't just in his head, he prayed for a way into her building.

Grinning as he approached the front of the building, Chandler literally let out a sigh of relief. "Rachel!" he called out, and she stopped, on her way out the building.

She crossed her arms as he came nearer, coming to a stop in front of her. "You're some kind of an asshole, you know that?"

Chandler nodded, still trying to catch him breath. "I know, I do," he paused, glancing behind him. "Can you just let me in, please?"

Rachel glanced behind him. "Are you being chased."

Chandler nodded. "It's a long story," he paused. "Please, Rachel? I swear to god I have an explanation for everything," he bounced up and down anxiously, the hatted men getting closer.

Rachel unlocked the door, holding it open for him. "Just don't make me regret this," she warned.

Chandler grinned, running into the building. "Thank you, Rachel!" he called out behind him, already heading for the stairs as she let the door close behind him.

Chandler flew up the stairs, heading for Monica's door. He knocked quickly on it, bouncing on the balls of his feet, positive that Tom and his men had alternative ways into the building. "C'mon, c'mon," he whispered to himself, finally hearing the sound of the chain as she unlocked the door.

Finally, Monica appeared from behind it. She crossed her arms, not moving to let him in.

Chandler took a deep breath, attempting to slow his breathing to normal after running so far. "I'm sorry," he began. "I'm sorry, and I can explain-"

"I'm sure you can," Monica nodded, the sound of footsteps pounding the stairwells now evident.

Chandler glanced back at the stairs, and then at Monica. "Can I come in?"

"Give me one good reason I should let you in."

Chandler shook his head. "I don't know that there is one."

Monica looked at the stairs, the sound of running coming closer as Chandler grew visibly more nervous. "Are you being followed?"

Chandler nodded, and she finally moved out of the doorway, letting him come in, chaining it behind him. "That's not going to do any good," he shook his head, looking around, and finally seeing a storage closet by the window leading out to the balcony. He headed towards it, Monica following quickly.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "Chandler, what is going on? Why are you being followed?" she continued. "And, while we're at it, where the hell were you last night? Everything imaginable went wrong last night, and then you weren't even there!" she crossed her arms.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry," he looked her in the eyes, but reached for the doorknob at the same time. "It's locked."

Monica shook her head. "It's just storage. Chandler, what the hell is going on?" she asked, banging coming from the front door.

"Do you trust me?" Chandler stared into her eyes. "I mean, I know you have every reason not to, but...do you? Because nothing about my explanation is going to make any kind of sense, and I'm kind of going to have to show you," he continued.

~.~

Tom paused as he reached the hallway in front of Monica's apartment, staring at the two men already there as his jaw fell.

"Oh my god, he's going to tell her," Tom shook his head. "You two work on a way in here. I'm going to try another route," he yelled, running back down the stairs, taking them two at a time. "That kid's got some balls…."


	7. Chapter Seven

**The Adjustment Bureau**

**Chapter Seven**

~.~

"Do you trust me?" Chandler stared into Monica's eyes. "I mean, I know you have every reason not to, but...do you? Because nothing about my explanation is going to make any kind of sense, and I'm kind of going to have to show you," he continued.

"Why should I trust you?" Monica crossed her arms.

Chandler shook his head. "I honestly don't know," he paused. "Monica…Mon, I _need_ you to trust me enough to believe me on this," he took a deep shaky breath as he stepped closer to her. "The men who are following me…control our fate," he said quietly. "They make sure everything that is supposed to happen, happens, and nothing else," he continued on, quickly and quietly. "No one is supposed to know they exist, and, a few years ago, I walked in on something I wasn't supposed to see, after running into you, which also wasn't supposed to happen," he continued, Monica staring blankly back at him. "In their little plan, apparently, we aren't supposed to be together, and they are trying their hardest to keep me away from you because, some how, it screws with a whole bunch of other stuff," Chandler shook his head. "You probably think I'm crazy, but," he took a deep breath, holding out his hand, "let me show you."

"Sh-show me?"

Chandler nodded. " At this point in time, I'm either an asshole, a lunatic, or telling the truth. At least give me a chance," he left his hand out, and she finally reached for it. "Is the key above the doorframe?" he motioned to the door, and Monica nodded, so he reached for it, unlocking the closet door, but leaving it shut. "Whatever happens, do not let go of my hand. Okay?"

Monica nodded slowly. "Where are we going, exactly?"

"To change the mind of the person in charge of this plan, before they erase my memory completely and do only god knows what to you," Chandler reached for the doorknob.

"Chandler, you're really freaking me out."

Chandler laughed, turning the doorknob counter-clockwise. "If I'm freaking you out now, wait about thirty seconds." Monica hesitated as Chandler attempted to step forward, the pounding that had been persisting at the front door coming to a sudden halt. "Are you coming?" he asked her. "Because, either way, I have to get out of here, now, with or without you. I'd rather it be with you, but I really need to go. Now."

Monica finally nodded slowly, squeezing his hand. "Okay. Prove to me you're not an asshole or a lunatic."

Chandler laughed, pulling open the door and heading through it, Monica close behind, clutching tightly onto his hand, the two of them pulling the door closed just as the two men outside of Monica's apartment burst through the door, looking around frantically before heading back out the door to find Tom.

Chandler looked around the long, silent stretch of hallway, unsure of exactly where they were or where they were heading.

Monica turned around in circles. "What did-how did we-?"

"Yea, you wouldn't believe where all I've been in the past half hour," Chandler laughed. "Come on, we have to keep moving."

"These guys control out fate?" Monica whispered, leaning closer to Chandler as they turned at the end of the hallway, heading down another, almost identical one. "So, who are we looking for, exactly, God?" she asked skeptically.

Chandler again laughed. "I'm not completely sure. They call him The Chairman. I guess we'll find out," Chandler ducked down another hallway as a group of men in trenchcoats and hats neared them. Chandler glanced behind him, the men now moving at a slightly faster pace in their direction. "Run," he whispered to Monica, the two taking off, still holding hands.

They continued down the hallway, coming to a dead end. "Shit," Chandler swore under his breath. "Shit," he repeated, turning in circles before turning around, heading in the first door he came to, Monica still close by his side. They entered a large, quiet room, lined with stacks of leather-bound books. However, the group of men who had seen them in the hallway was not far behind, running in after them.

Chandler continued to the back, coming to what looked like a fire exit. He pressed on the door, which lead to a stairwell, the two continuing to run up the stairs with the men from the bureau following close behind. They reached the top of the stairwell, coming through the door on the other side.

Monica shook her head, realizing they were on the roof of the building, looking hopelessly at Chandler, who had now dropped her hand, realizing they were trapped. "What now?" she asked quietly, and Chandler only shrugged.

"I guess-I guess I say goodbye," he finally replied, wrapping his arms around her as the men from the bureau burst through the doors, Monica clinging back to him. "Not the worst last memory ever," he murmured before kissing her, trying to soak up every last moment with her.

"I tried to reason with you." The two broke apart at the sound of Tom's voice behind them.

"Can we just talk to The Chairman?" Chandler asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking. Tom was a few feet from them, but the other men were gone.

"Ha!" Tom laughed. "_Talk_ to _The Chairman_?" He again laughed. "You think anyone can just walk in here and talk to him?" Tom stepped closer to Chandler. "You know what's next."

Chandler nodded, swallowing slowly. "What about-what about Monica?"

Tom smiled. "Don't worry. She'll get a chance before she's reset, just like you did. You, however-"

"Wait!" Nathaniel came running through the doors, heading straight for Tom. He nodded at Chandler before handing a piece of paper and leather-bond book with the word 'Revised' stamped to the front, to Tom.

Tom read over the paper, opening the book before closing it. "Very well," he nodded to Nathaniel, walking back towards the staircase.

Chandler stared at Nathaniel in disbelief, looking to a still-stunned Monica who was still clinging to his hand, before looking back to Nathaniel. "What-what just happened?"

Nathaniel smiled. "You spoke to The Chairman, alright," he laughed. "He heard you loud and clear." Nathaniel paused. "I'll take my hat back," he reached out towards Chandler. "You two can go ahead and take the stairs. And the front door."

Chandler shook his head, taking the hat off and handing it back to Nathaniel. "I don't understand."

Nathaniel just smiled, holding open the book he had shown to Tom. "These," he pointed to the two separate lines on the page, "were your plans before. Separate directions," he flipped the page. "This is now," he pointed to where the two lines had converged into one, actively moving across the page. Nathaniel smiled, closing the book. "Chandler," he reached out to shake Chandler's hand. "Monica," he shook hers, as well, heading back towards the door and disappearing behind it.

~.~

"Dude." Chandler was awoken by the sound of Ross's voice and a smack at his feet. "What the hell?"

"Why? Why would you smack my foot?" Chandler groaned, his toe throbbing, his arm still around Monica, who he was spooning.

"Why are you in bed with my little sister?" Ross countered, trying to keep his voice down so that their parents didn't come in there. "Please, please tell me you're both fully clothed…."

At that, Monica pulled back the covers for a moment to reveal that they were, before pulling them back down around them. "Go away, Ross," she grumbled.

"You're lucky I came in here, not Mom and Dad," Ross scoffed, not moving.

"We'll be down for breakfast in a minute, Ross," Monica looked up at him, Chandler also silently pleading for him to leave them alone.

Ross huffed. "Fine, but this conversation is not over," he finally turned to leave, pulling the door shut behind him.

Monica turned towards Chandler, fitting herself against his chest as he tightened his arms around her. She looked up as he leaned down to kiss her, staring into her eyes after they pulled apart.

Monica smiled. "This is going to sound crazy, but I just got the weirdest déjà vu."

Chandler smiled in return, kissing her again. "Maybe because this just…feels right," he lay his head back down on his pillow, Monica moving so hers was beside his instead of on his chest. "That doesn't sound too weird and crazy, does it?"

Monica shook her head. "I don't think so."

"What about Ross?"

Monica shrugged. "He'll get over it."

Chandler nodded in agreement, playing with Monica's fingers between his.

"My parents, though," Monica laughed, "kind of hate you."

"What? Why do your parents hate me?" Chandler laughed, sitting up. "I'm completely awesome and charming!"

"Well," Monica laughed, sitting up, as well, "last Spring, when they came to visit Ross…."

~.~

_And, there ya have it :)_

_For those of you who have seen the movie, I realize I just completely changed the ending, from which you can take what you will. I was laying in bed last night, and, for some reason, decided this needed to be how this ended. I also realize I took some creative license with parts of the plot…I don't want to give away too much of the movie, in case anyone wants to see it still (if you haven't all already…I should be getting royalties for getting so many people to see it, ha!), but…I don't know where I'm going with this statement. _

_Anyway, THANK YOU ALL so much for the reviews and favorite/alert adds! Final reviews are always appreciated. Also, I have two half-finished Mondler fics sitting on my hard drive, and I'm thinking one of them may need to make an appearance, if you guys are interested… :)_


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